Cyrusys
by spinsugar
Summary: HBP timeline. Harry and Draco start a game of wits and curiosity during their 6th year and darkest hours. Sync'ed with HBP, not sap or fluff. This one took a long time. DMHP, nothing heavy unless your imagination works off what I give you. JK Rowlings C
1. Chapter 1

**Cyrusys 1**

"Harry, you're back!" The transparent girl arose from a stall with a beaming smile, accompanied with a flirtatious lash beating.

"Yea." Harry suppressed an eye-roll. He had an objective after all. "Myrtle, you said something about a boy coming in here and crying. Who was it?"

"I am not telling you! He comes to visit me, unlike you!" Harry watched as Myrtle folded her arms and threw her nose into the air, as if she would really be such a hard nut to crack after bathing with Harry during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. However, there was a slim chance. "You made a promise to visit me, Harry."

"I know, Myrtle. But this is very important to me. We both know you could help me if you wanted too, right?" Harry was mentally beating himself into kind-tones and empathetic eyes.

"Oh, Harry." There was a long pause when Myrtles face was simply bleeding confliction.

"Come on, Myrtle. It would _really_ mean a lot to me."

"No."

Harry was slightly taken aback. Myrtle had never shown a thread of resolve or defiance towards Harry in a one-on-one situation. He never thought he would be begging to a ghost…in a bathroom. "Please, Myrtle." One again, that slight hesitation gave Harry a fleeting glance at hope.

"No. Now go away!"

Harry entered the Great Hall feeling slightly deflated, but went through the motions typical of a hungry teenage boy just the same. It was not until he was half way through a slice of mincemeat pie that he saw the trademark red Weasely hair did he pause in his conveyer belt consumption of the dessert. The sighting sparked a twinge of jealousy; at first glimpse it was suspect to be Ginny snogging Dean. It was not until the mass of back cloaks and Gryffindor propaganda rotated and rearranged slightly did Harry noticed with relief that it was Ron with Lavender.

"Really, that's no way for a prefect to behave, especially in the middle of dinner!" snapped a very motherly voice from behind a newspaper.

"Hermione! Didn't see you. I was talking to Myrtle and…um, Hermione?"

Harry had to bend his neck to see all of Hermione's face as it was turned towards the massive polyester meteor otherwise named 'Ron's snogging of revenge'. She was on the brink of tears once again. "Hermione, it doesn't matter, let's talk…"

"In the common room." She finished and determined for him.

"But."

"Now!" She said, half grabbing Harry and making a very solid march out of the Great Hall with not a glance back at the source of her anger. The walk to Gryffindor Tower was silent and very tense. Harry knew better than to talk with the air around Hermione so thick with anger and rage. It was not until they were firmly settled in the common room that Hermione looked even remotely capable of a logical conversation.

"Hermione, this is getting out of hand."

"I can not _believe _the nerve of them!"

"He doesn't really mean for it to upset you." 'That's a lie' His conscience told him.

"It dishonors the name of Prefect, the House of Gryffindor, all the 6th years!"

"I think I am going to step out for some fresh air. I would recommend you do the same from time to time, Hermione." He said and quickly excused himself after giving her a small kiss on the forehead, if for nothing else than to shut her up with shock. "Please have pleasant dreams." He smiled softly as he climbed through the Portrait hole and into the cold hallways of Hogwarts, embarking on another eve's quest to evade looming homework readings.

Harry walked around the corridors, carefully avoiding the red-eyed cat and its master, Filch, the many ghost, teachers, prefects or other people in general who might interrupt his aimless roaming. He swung into the same bathroom of his failed attempt at persuading Myrtle to quell his curiosity to find it empty and smelling rather foul. He rounded the wall of sinks away from the door and opened the window to let out the offending scent, pausing to take in the serene night and its general splendor. Every now and then, when the war was out of mind and the starry sky was in sight, things seem so elegantly simple. Taking a closed eyed, deep breath of the night air, Harry turned to the nearest sink to wash away the remainder of a sweet treat that Hermione deprived him of upon their hasty exit from dinner, the Great Hall, and what was presumably a great tart. He turned the faucet on, wet his hands and turned the knob off before lathering up with soap (a habit forcefully instilled upon him at the Dursleys, lest he waste their precious water on his bothersome hands).

But before he could wash away the soapy foam, there was an outstanding crash of the bathroom door being thrown quite violently against the wall, followed by its equally noisy rebound into closure and incidental locking. Out of instinct and war-brought jumpy nature, Harry ducked down under the sink on the opposite side of the circular sink pillar, even though he would not be seen either way behind the pillar. He listened closely to ensure this hasty person was not threatening the disclosure of his location, however rather then hearing advancing foot steps towards his hiding place, he heard the un-corking of a vial, one large swallow, and lastly the sound of the vial being unceremoniously shattered on the porcelain sink. But what his ears absorbed next was more shocking than a bludger upside the head, heavy sobbing, deep gasping and then what could only be the snagging of a cloak along the stone wall as the person came to a heap against the opposite wall that Harry was sheltered by. 'What the hell?'

Harry did not want to do two things. One was being seen, and second was not to embarrass this person by interrupting them during what was obviously a dark hour. So, in order to kill the two said birds, Harry employed a suggestion from the headmaster before the start of term. Harry pulled his Invisibility Cloak out of his pocket and wrapped himself in it, but not before wiping his still soapy hands on his black student cloak first. He half crawled out from behind his shelter, noting the familiar label from a vial of calming draught from the infirmary, and slowly began his careful and guarded endeavor towards the door. He rounded the column of sinks but before light footing across the floor, he was stopped dead by the picture slapped in front of him.

A very blond Slytherin was ungracefully piled against the stonewall with his left sleeve rolled up revealing an angry looking Dark Mark. 'Bursting into a bathroom, downing a sedative, crashing into a heap against a wall, airing out one's Dark Mark and having a good cry can _not_ be healthy' was the only thought going across Harry's metal dialogue. This thought however distracted him from his progress towards the door enough to deteriorate the perception of his surroundings…he stepped on the shattered glass which noisily grinded between his shoe and the stone floor. 'Oh. Shit." Harry was painfully slammed against the door of the bathroom before he even saw the figure leave the floor. His Invisibility Cloak was torn from his body and thrown against the sinks.

"Evening, Potter" said Draco, though the crack in his voice and the tear stains on his porcelain cheeks still leading a wet path back to his reddened eyes was noted by Harry before the fear of being cornered could really register.

"Sounding strong through the tears, hears to courage, aye?" Said Harry, still apparently not getting the idea that he was pinned by, and alone with, one very pissed off Death Eater.

"Slytherin's have a natural sense of self-preservation, you, Potter, obviously lack an ounce of it." Draco was clearly able to regain his footing and attitude alarmingly fast given the situation he was discovered in.

"I don't need preserving if there is no threat."

"If you don't see me as a threat then you're as insane as Dumbledore." Draco spat.

"If that's the case I am doing just fine judgment wise."

"You thick headed Gryffindor!" Draco punched Harry one in the stomach then threw him back first into the nearest sink. Harry fell into a neat little pile of robes along the pipes, but before he could get back up, Draco had taken his Invisibility Cloak and bolted into the hall, Harry quick on his heals. "I think I'll do you a great favor by keeping you out of trouble, Potter" said Draco, dangling Harry's cloak like a carrot on a string at the end of the corridor.

"Give it here, Malfoy!" Harry was now getting the point into his head that the situation had gone from bad to terrible.

"Like Hell. You can buy it back though." Draco knew the carrot was turning deliciously orange to Harry.

"I'll bite, what is my Cloak worth to you?" Harry's eyes were now glaring daggers.

"That little potions book of yours."

"The hell you want my book for?"

"Shall we say, it's for a friend, not for my own interest?"

"You have friends?" Harry said in mock shock. Draco responded by shoving the cloak into his pocked and patting it twice to emphasize the security of his newly acquired treasure. "No. Now give me my cloak back!"

"Like I said, Potter, your abilities to judge a situation and circumstance are unbelievably poor." Draco now sounded merely agitated by the conversation, a world away from a few minutes before when he was an emotional display of unchecked weakness and fear. With the final insult Draco was gone into the night taking Harry's cloak, but giving Harry the answer Myrtle denied him in the same bathroom before dinner. This was not the first time Draco dissolved into tears in a bathroom, and with this thought, Harry felt that he and Malfoy were in even grounds for bargaining, a cloak for a secret.


	2. Chapter 2

**Cyrusys 2**

Harry entered the Great Hall to find Ron pondering the mysteries of his coffee. He was clearly one with the universe, but not at home.

"Where's Lavender?" Harry asked.

"Who? Oh, yea. No idea. When do we have Potions?" Ron asked with a rather absent-minded tone…his mind still not all in the same place or plane of reality.

"About 20-minutes, Mate." 'Wait! That's also 20-minutes until I see Malfoy. I need to think of how to deal with this…this…whatever.'

"You look pensive, mate. Something the matter?"

"Nope, just not looking forward to class. So what's with you and Lavender? Had a row?"

"Nope, just getting bored."

"Howz dat?" Harry said through a piece of muffin he was inhaling.

"Well, you know. Just…there is nothing between us other than the physical stuff, like no real connection." Once again, the spaced out look enveloped Ron's features.

"Well…" Harry didn't get a chance to complete his reassuring statement. He started choking violently on his muffin. Draco had just walked in the hall and gave him a challenging stare. His usual air of superiority was now shaded with hints of smugness and pride. Clearly he was feeling better about life now that he had some success in his never-ending quest to fuck with 'Potter.' It took Harry five huge gulps of hot honey-tea to clear his passageway of crumbs and blueberry chunks. But unfortunately, in the time it took to regain his composure, the episode had caught the attention of many surrounding Gryffindor's. He gave a weak smile to divert their eyes away from his 'muffin incident'.

"Harry, you alright? You're a right nasty shade of red!" Harry was thankful Ron was talking low, the last thing he needed was pity from his best friend to add to the embarrassment he was feeling under the questioning looks from his housemates.

"Um, yea, fine. Listen, Ron, I am going to get a head start, I…left my books in the dorm." Thinking on the spot was never one of Harry's fortes, but he was desperate to have time to form an idea as to how to deal with Malfoy.

After running into his dorm and nabbing an extra ink-well (simply to ease his conscience about 'lying' to Ron,) Harry dashed out of the portrait hole for the second time that morning. He had all his books for the day weighing him down. He figured that the less time he spend running around for books and whatnot, the more time he could spend conspiring.

But before he could round the corner of the last corridor towards Defense Against the Dark Arts, he was pulled from midair into a small hallway that before the aggressive introduction, Harry was not aware of it even existing.

He let out a small grunt at being slammed face first into the stonewall and having his hands pinned above his head, effectively immobilizing him. Then, there was the most intrusive act of the encounter, a rather hasty hand groping around in Harry's school bag. It was at this point Harry had a clue at what was being done to him, and in a desperate and unintentional act of retaliation, he kicked back hard against the wall, throwing not only him, but his attacker to the ground.

"AND you're a pathetic fighter? Shit. Potter, I can not believe everyone else thinks you are even capable of being a hero." The sneer coupled with the fastest act of mounting in ground-fighting history was elegantly executed before Harry saw Malfoy's face. For the second time that morning, Harry was being forcefully introduced to a stone surface with someone's assistance.

"What do you want this time Mrrrrrrffffhhh…"

"Your book," Harry felt the extraction of a weighty object from his bag, "And now, I have it."

Harry tried to say something, but he found his tie had been removed during the scramble and was currently gagging him. He rolled over and found Malfoy gone. This was the most defiled Harry had ever felt in his life. He had not only lost his Invisibility Cloak and his prized Potions book to Malfoy, but was also now on the stone floor being silenced by his own tie. He didn't want to cry. He wanted to get revenge in the worst way possible.

Potions was spent trying not to catapult across the room and land a punch on Malfoy's pale face. Harry was fuming in the back of the class, stuck at a table with some previously unknown Hufflepuffs. He was late, did not have his greatly assisting book, could not escape the worried glances from Hermione and Ron (respectively) inquiring about his tardiness and worst, did not have any clue as to how to make the drought Slughorn had assigned. So, once again, relying on his poor impromptu skills, asked Slughorn to release him on the grounds of a headache and mild nausea.

"My dear Harry. Of course you may leave, since I know this is probably too easy an assignment for you anyway. Carpe Diem my boy and feel better," Slughorn said easily. With a nod of thanks, Harry was off. But before the door could close, he could clearly see Draco's cold, grey eyes knowingly looking at him. Bastard.

After all the days classes had ended, Harry did not emerge from the Common Room until dinnertime, which was spent in an awkward silence between Ron and Hermione. Harry was at a loss for an idea. He resigned to bed after the main course; anything sweet just did not meet his fancy at the moment. However, having spent all afternoon and early evening in the Common Room, there was little that could catch his interest. Ron was snogging Lavender in their shared dorm room, and Hermione would not stop asking about his health, absence, and creating small talk carefully dancing around the topic of 'Won-Won.' In what could be considered a very stupid act, Harry once again left the Gryffindor Tower after dark, this time without his Invisibility Cloak.

'I must be thoroughly desperate,' Harry thought as he strolled down the same corridor that he chased Malfoy down last night in a futile attempt to retrieve his cloak. He entered the same bathroom, and was not nearly as surprised as he should have been.

"Evening, Potter"

"Malfoy."

"So, trying to bargain for your stuff back?"

"Nope, just trying to not get bored."

"What?"

"Nothing," Harry said under his breath.

There was a long pause, in which Harry strolled over to the windowsill, passing Malfoy without looking at him. Harry gave up in that moment. He gave up subtlety, finesse, and strategy. He just wanted answers.

"Malfoy?"

"I am still here, Potter."

"Why not come over to the light?"

"Pardon? You want me to join you and Dumbledore? Get a grip. You saw my arm."

"Yes, but you can turn spy for us!"

"Unlike Snape, I had a birth right to the mark. Some things are just chosen for you."

"You're telling this to the 'Chosen One'?" Potter said sarcastically. "Take your concepts about prior assignment and shove them up your ass, Malfoy. I got a scar from your Master before I could walk. You received the mark recently, right? You could have refused, you HAD a choice.

"LIKE HELL I DID! My father would have killed me before the Dark Lord could if I refused. You AND I escaped our deaths by taking these marks. You know nothing about my world, Potter. You can't win."

"We will win. We are stronger, and we are right. I will not fail in killing Voldemort."

"Shut up."

Harry had it. He walked over to Malfoy and punched him hard in the jaw. But instead of returning the attack, Draco simply spit out the blood then regained his composure and former position against a sink, merely looking inquisitively at Harry.

"And that solves what, Harry?"

"A small amount of my anger."

"Anger at what? You're not the one who is taking drugs for stress. You're not the one who has to…" Draco went silent. He turned to the window and took a deep breath.

"Sorry." Harry said silently. Draco just looked at him with one eyebrow raised. "For punching you."

"It's normal."

"How so?"

"Enemies fight and hit each other. See? Normal." Draco's speech had become hushed and low. Harry though he heard a hitch in his tone as well.

"Draco? You alright?"

"Like you give a damn."

"I…Well. Sorry."

"Sure thing." Draco started to leave, not looking Harry in the eye.

"Wait! I want my cloak and book back."

"Like Hell."

"Malfoy, listen, I need that book."

"I know…to think the great Harry Potter has been cheating for over half a year. Tut-tut, Potter." Harry went pale at this. It was time for the silver bullet.

"Give me the book and the cloak, and I won't tell anyone about your little branding, Malfoy." At once Draco rounded on Harry and stared at him to intensely that Harry shrunk a bit in his place.

"No, you won't."

"Wanna bet on that?"

"Want to die at my hands instead of Lord Voldemort's?"

"You don't have it in you, Malfoy."

"Fuck you, Potter."

Again there was a long silence, in which the air was thick with tension, questions, and danger. Harry decided that what he did was a bad move. For the first time, he was mildly scared of Draco, and he knew Draco saw it in his eyes. 'So much for Gryffindor courage.'

"Draco, your mouth is still bleeding." Draco simply smiled and let out a little laugh. The blood was seen around his teeth and on his tongue, adding to his hysterical appearance. Then he started laughing a little louder until it echoed around the bathroom. "You're insane. Shit, Draco, have you lost your mind?" Now Harry was definitely scared. He had pushed a Death Eater over the edge…


	3. Chapter 3

**Cyrusys 3**

"M-Malfoy? Draco? Stop laughing, you're scaring me! DRACO!" Harry, like a true Gryffindor acting on impulse, pushed and pinned Draco to the wall.

"Calm down, Potter. Can't you see the humor in all this? Here we are, mortal enemies, bickering in a bathroom when our paths dictate that we should be killing each other at first sight. It's sick and pathetic."

"It's morbid! What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing at all, why?" Draco answered flatly, raising an eyebrow.

"Your mad!" Harry's voice was dabbling in tones of hysteria.

"Acute of you, Potter. Now let go of me."

Harry just shook his head and held his grip. If he let go then Draco could reach for his wand…and that's the LAST this Harry wanted. Draco pushed lightly against Harry and demanded again a little more firmly. Harry just shook his head and looked at their feet. He could feel Draco relaxing a little under his touch. Finally, Harry just gave out and let what strength he had left evaporate into the air. It was only then did he notice that he and Draco's feet were touching.

"Cool it, Potter. It's fine, I am fine. Just really, _really_ stressed." Draco let out a sigh and put a hand on Harry's shoulder to move him back and look at his face, only to be visually shocked with the image before him. "What the hell are you doing?" Harry was fighting, fighting with all his might, but failing to hold back the tears caused by his own life's stress, their shared burdens from fate.

"I am so sick of it all. This war, having to be on 'sides', not knowing who is a spy and who is trust worthy, not knowing if you are going to live another day…it's all so pointless, so empty. Why does Voldemort want to kill me? A grudge? It's too stupid. Why are we all fighting with each other even before we leave school? Before our final year even! This is not supposed to be how we live our lives! Look at how fucked up we all are! WHY CAN'T WE JUST BE FRIENDS!" Harry shouted the last line in Draco's face, letting all his rage, fear and sadness flow out in his words, tears and gasps.

They stood like that for a while, Draco still against the wall looking down at Harry. His head was now hanging limply against Draco's chest. Draco's hands had moved to Harry's shoulders, not an intentional comforting gesture. It just…happened.

"Why can't we just be friends?" Harry said mush softer, almost to himself, as if saying it in his sleep.

Draco's inner battle was so intense it was making his pulse and breath race. His stress was not simply from the order to kill, it was the insinuation to not befriend or have any relationships outside the Death Eater circle that he really, truly despised. It was tearing at his inner soul, his very being. He was living a nightmare, and the only potential savior was here in front of him. The one person even remotely capable of rescuing him was standing with him, during both of their darkest hours. So close, but in reality worlds away, making the phrase unbearably frustrating an understatement.

"We can't just be friends." Draco said, matching the softness of Harry's tone. Harry looked up, despair and a hint of confusion written on his face.

"Why?" Harry's eyes widened when Draco pushed him back and held Harry at arms distance. Then Draco leaned forward, touching the crowns of their heads together. They stayed like that for a moment before Draco spoke again.

"We can't just be friends…because I want to be more." With that Draco leaned forward and took Harry's lips with his own.

Draco was kissing hope, kissing light, and kissing faith. Draco was kissing Harry. It took a few moments before the gravity of the situation hit Harry, and when it did, it hit him like a punch. He tried to yell, but all he produced was a moan. He tried to push away, but he ended up wrapping his arms around Draco's shoulders. He tried to open his eyes, but they disobeyed. Then, his whole body yielded and he leaned into Draco and the kiss.

Draco was for the first time existing in a natural state of being—everything about him and his mind was united in this one action. He wanted to kiss Harry. He needed to kiss Harry. He had to in order to save the last part of his sanity. It was the only thing that would be right to do at that time and moment, anything else would be just wrong. Draco slowly turned Harry towards the window; Harry just followed, and most importantly, trusted Draco to lead him. Draco effortlessly lifted Harry onto the window's ledge; he was now between Harry's knees and leaning up towards Harry, never breaking their contact—continuously refreshing the sensation of being part of a duel with their lips and tongues.

To both, the moment, this small shred of time was the most meaningful and necessary action they've had in the past year. The war, the petty house rivalries, the meaningless alliances, nothing mattered. There was no past, the future was not worth the worry, but the present was vital. The kiss was hungry, the only sound in the bathroom was small gasps for air, the rustle of clothing being pried open, and the small but deep moans from a non-distinguishable source.

Harry could not recount when it happened, but Draco's hand was now drifting like a feather over his Quiddich hardened abs and back. Such small movements burned like fire, and Harry thought that no amount of scrubbing would take the sensation away from his body. Harry's hands were around Draco's neck and under his arm, trying to make their contact as close and personal as possible. Not one motion was planned, all the movements were made instinctually and with all the passion missing in the other areas of Harry and Draco's lives.

Suddenly, Draco pulled back, leaving both of them gasping for air. They looked into each other's eyes and slowly a dialogue moving from relief, to concern, to fear, to regret and then to embarrassment flooded into the open space between then.

"Draco."

"Harry, what have I done?"

"I can't answer that. What just happened?"

"I can't answer that. I am sorry." Draco slowly started detangling himself and deciphering whose limbs belonged in what clothes when Harry finally spoke again.

"Please." Harry was looking at Draco's hands that had stopped at his own hips. "Draco, I…you seem to be hurting so much. Why? What's happening to you to make you so..."

"Stressed, freaked out, scared, miserable?" Draco said, following his eyes.

"Yea." Harry's eyes slowly took in the whole situation, and just feeling bad that this was one more thing that would be added to Draco's problems.

"I can't tell you that. Please just drop it. I really don't need to think about it right now." With this, Harry's curiosity was just having a heyday, but for the first time ever, he did as he was told by another student, and for a Slytherin no less. He had his own problems to worry about…he had just kissed Draco Malfoy, and it was not out of place, or wrong.

"Understood."

"I understand them now."

"What?"

"Why you're the hero."

But before either one of them had the chance for the next word, there was a resounding crash in the hall, alerting both their war-bred nerves. Harry grabbed for his wand, Draco was already at the door. Both looked at each other. Draco grabbed Harry's messy hair and forcefully brought his head up to his face. "I will not beg a Gryffindor, but I will ask you to be here tomorrow, same time." Harry nodded in acquiescence before being forced into a rough and passionate kiss for the last time before they each bolted out the door wands raised.

"Malfoy, I'll be wanting my cloak." Harry said in a hushed but clear voice.

"And I'll be wanting that incentive for you to be here, Potter." Draco said with a refreshed sneer.

With a quick exchange of glares, they were off in their respective directions towards their common rooms. Neither had innocent dreams.


	4. Chapter 4

**Cyrusys 4**

Harry awoke with nothing close to a clean conscience.

The first 5-minutes of being awake was like opening his eyes into a new life. He had been in a bathroom, alone with, and kissing Draco.

It was a new chapter in his school life; however, he was hardly able to tell with the ever-present cloud of war that was always in his mind…even his latest dreams had exotic undertones amidst the darkness.

He kept getting a minor fit of butterflies when he thought about the encounter, and the fact that he was going to be in that bathroom in a few hours. It was that line of thought that made him try just a bit harder to make his hair flat…to no avail.

Walking into the great hall was uneventful…until Draco came drifting in, flanked by his cronies Crabb and Goyle. Draco turned slyly towards the Gryffindor table, unknown to his comrades and gave Harry the up and down eye scan. Harry did not have enough time to compose himself, or to even change his expression into something other than 'this tea is hot' mixed with 'oh shit there he is,' which he knew Draco took as another point to his cool bank.

Now, while Draco was discreet enough to not call attention to his glances, Harry did not have this ability. Ron was looking rather confoundedly from the Slytherin table to the Gryffindor table, and back again, trying to decipher the odd behavior of his friend.

But this was not of great success, as Ron has not yet been caffeinated, so Ron just blurted out, "Harry, what got you?"

With a neck-popping crack Harry snapped out of his stupor and turned to Ron, "Malfoy." Harry did not realize how he breathed the name gracefully from his lips until Ron's face screwed up into puzzlement. "I mean, he has been particularly irksome lately. Haven't you noticed?"

"What has he been doing to you?" Ron said defensively, ready to take Harry's words with his fist and finally beat Malfoy right.

Harry leaned in close. He decided that he owed Ron something akin to an explanation of his frustration, though never in his right mind would he tell him the whole story. "He stole my potions book."

"No! That git!" Ron said sitting a little taller as to say that he had Harry's back should he decide to go into battle.

"Yea." But before Harry could get Ron more wound up, Draco decided that he would publicly toy with Harry before their meeting in that night.

"Well, well. If it isn't the boy that shouldn't have lived. Everything all right, Scar-head, Weasel-bee?

"Shove it up your ass, Malfoy." Ron said darkly before slowly standing up and turning towards the Slytherin Trio.

"Ron, don't." Harry said quietly as possible as he grabbed Ron's robe to pull him away from the confrontation.

"Oh my, Potter. Seems you have something on your tie." Draco rolled taking a slow step towards Harry.

"What?" Harry looked down and instantly remembered the encounter involving a stone wall, stone floor, Draco stealing his book, and his tie gagging him.

The tie was rather defiled looking, but Harry only had a moment to think about it. Draco had taken a step forward while Harry was looking down. By the time he looked up, Draco was right in front of him.

"Hello there." Draco said darkly. He allowed a very heavy pause to settle between then before he made a swift movement towards Harry and punched him in the stomach.

Harry keeled over but Draco's arm held him, keeping him from falling over onto the bench and giving his own actions away.

Looking behind Draco, Harry could see Ron being restrained by the wall known as Crabb and Goyle. He was alone in the arms of Draco, but in front of the whole Great Hall.

Harry knew teachers would be bearing down on the Slytherin/Gryffindor squabble any moment, as did Draco when he continued. "You are mine, Potter."

"What?" Harry said with short breaths, still trying to fill his lungs.

"Midnight is the time." Draco said in a hush against Harry's ear as he slowly let his arm give way, carefully depositing Harry on the bench of the table and motioning to his cronies to follow suit.

"Fuck you, Malfoy."

Draco said nothing, but merely looked lustfully at Harry, mentally replying: 'with pleasure, Potter.

-----

Harry took in the resounding steps on the stone steps leading to the bathroom. They were louder than normal in his ears. 'How did I not notice them before? Do I always walk this heavily?' He stopped to gain some composure. 'Calm down, Harry. Lets not forget the debauchery you are about to, have, want to…really want to commit.'

He stood in the same spot and let out a long sigh, but before he could take a deep breath in, a strong hand grabbed his upper arm and pulled him harshly into the bathroom. He was pulled so hard that when released momentum took him into the wall. This time delay gave Draco enough time to lock the door and whisper a silencing charm to surround the room and its occupants.

"Ouch, Draco. Damn it." Harry said, though his tone was not as convincing as he thought it was.

"Maybe you like it, Harry. Have you ever considered it?" Draco said smoothly as he took his cloak off and walked silkily towards Harry.

"Pervert, maybe you do but…" Harry did not have a chance to finish, nor did he really want to. Draco had moved in front of him very quickly and angled his face sharply in front of Harry's in a very sexual manner.

"Its okay you know. Everyone has those dirty little secrets, even the hero. You fight dragons and play a damn hard game of Quiddich, why not take _everything _in your life with that same _vigor_…"

Harry did not know what came over him at that moment, but when the switch turned on it did not merely flip on, it smashed, "Convince me why I should, Draco."

Even Draco was slightly taken aback by this statement, but he did not give it away. Draco just brought his hands up to Harry's collar and undid his cloak and tossed it over with his behind them. "Because right now, you do not have a choice." With that, Draco slammed Harry flat against the wall and split Harry's legs with one of his own. Then Draco brought his hand to the side of Harry's head with his thumb on his temple, fingers around in his hair and pulled him forward.

It was just as sensational as last night; Harry's body was alive, free and on fire. Draco's lips were the warmth that he was lacking in his life. Their kiss was desperate but graceful, it was fierce and passionate, most of all it was pure, raw lust.

Draco's other hand had taken Harry's and pinned it against the wall over both of their heads. For the first time in months Draco had the chance to lose control, go all out, not think of the big picture, not worry about the past or future, all lights were green.

He slowly began to move the leg he had wedged between Harry's slowly up and down. Surprisingly Harry did not protest or look surprised, he moaned deliciously into Draco's mouth with a sharp breath. Harry took his free hand and grabbed Draco's back harshly to bring the friction higher and closer to his growing erection. Draco took the encouragement and started a slow and deep pace against Harry.

Draco kissed Harry out of time with his movement to keep both their senses flooded. Being a Slytherin, Draco did not neglect himself simply to see Harry plead for more. He was taking advantage of his height to grind against Harry's hipbone. Draco was not particularly experienced with this means of innuendo, but he was not wasting a single motion, and the only thought away from his physical desire what that he knew he was blowing Harry's mind away, this made him mentally grin with satisfaction.

Slowly Draco increased his pace and pressure. Both of them were damn near incapacitated, and far past the point of stopping. Harry and Draco's kisses were deep and wet, tongues fighting for occupation and lips trying to milk the other for all they were worth. Harry's hand had moved to nearly under Draco pulling him higher and supporting Draco's own pleasure seeking. Draco had taken Harry's hand that was above their heads and was making Harry take his own shirt off with Draco's fingers policing the action. Harry was completely owned, better still was that he was loving every firing of every nerve. Harry's shirt came off without their mouths parting, a surprisingly easy feat when both parties are equally committed. Draco, however, was losing all of his control, so he simply ripped his shirt off before Harry could even suggest its absence.

But before anything else could be removed Draco wanted to change their position, so he forced Harry to the sinks and turned Harry around so they were both facing themselves in the mirrors with Draco behind Harry. "Now I am going to convince you that you like it." He whispered into Harry's ear before licking the shell and tracing a warm wet path down Harry's neck to his throat, where he began to suck and bite hungrily. Harry let his head roll back to rest on Draco's shoulder, giving Draco a clear opening at Harry's neck, to which he took more than his fair advantage.

Draco then upped the stakes. His hands slid smoothly to Harry's belt and undid it only enough to turn the buckle to the belt revolved out of the loops and ended up towards Draco, where he held it strongly, and effectively controlling Harry's position with the belt now higher on Harry's chest. This was obviously a big leap for Harry since he whispered in Draco's ear a question as to his intentions.

"Remember, you do not have a choice." Harry surprised both of them once again and just reached up to pull Draco's head near his mouth where Harry kissed Draco's jaw line. With that settled, Draco brought his hand to his face and led Harry's mouth to his fingers. "Make them warm and wet, Harry," Draco whispered deeply in Harry's ear. It was seduction, pure and simple. Harry took Draco's fingers in his mouth and licked them up and down until Draco was satisfied with the job.

Then Draco replaced his fingers with his mouth and engaged Harry ever more deeply in a kiss while his free and now wet hand wandered down to the top of Harry's pants. He moved past the belt restraint and opened the top of the pants, the button, and then the zipper, then moved aside the overlapping layer of fabric of Harry's boxers. He let his fingers brush slowly at first over Harry's growth, but before he began his work, he stopped kissing Harry and nudged Harry's head upright so they could both look in the mirror.

"Take this in, Harry. You and I both know what is going to happen now. I am going to take you over the edge, and you are going to like every second of it, because you are going to watch me do it." With that Draco sealed his statement by biting Harry's neck, and then he got down to business.


	5. Chapter 5

**Cyrusys 5**

_(Chapter Eleven/Twelve events)_

Draco was sick of Hogsmeade weekends by this point in his school-life. However, his plans were disrupted ever since the Hand of Glory was delayed in its arrival; thus, he had to go into the wizarding village personally to see to the successful completion of next few phases of the grand scheme.

The fact that the Vanishing Cabinets were still broken was also not advancing his progress. He decided that the drink he was about to consume was to be a cry-in-the-Butterbeer, rather then a celebratory drink. Another nerve twinge was at the idea that at this moment, Rosmerta was lurking in the girl's bathroom waiting to give a lethal piece of jewelry to an unsuspecting Hogwarts student, who in turn would (hopefully) introduce it into the castle without Filch spotting it through his damned security measures. But alas, Draco decided that there was nothing that had to be done before this drink was finished.

Unfortunately, before he was able to take a deep sip of the warming drink, Harry and the wonder-trio came into The Three Broomsticks.

'Damn.'

He looked up at Harry, but the group did not notice Draco's presence, for which he was glad. It was a nice change to have to not raise himself up to his normal pain-in-the-ass reputation for once and just eye Harry over in peace. Draco was reminded of a Lion he saw stalking its prey on a safari trip he went on one holiday. Observing Harry's normal behavior was somehow satisfying…despite the fact that Harry seemed particularly enraged at this moment. (Mundungus was nicking Sirius' stuff, then disapparated.)

Draco's energy level was not as fiery as normal, he was exhausted from last night's multi-orgasmic escapades, and using the Imperius Curse for long periods of time on Rosmerta was becoming taxing. But he knew that his neck, and his families were on the line unless he succeeded at this plan. He did not have a choice. He could not fail.

He could not have enjoyed this Butterbeer more at the present moment.

---

Draco returned to the Slytherin common room before any commotion surrounding the necklace began. He left before Harry and his friends in order to have little, or hopefully no suspect involvement with its activity.

He lay on his bed, looking at the emerald green hangings over his head. Over the past few months, he had begun appreciating details around himself more and more. The linings of the drapery were silver, and he imagined that the Slytherin décor and fabrics were slightly more luscious then other houses because they were in the dungeon levels after all.

He shared his room with 5 other boys, but the room was very…cool.

At the top of the high and rounded ceiling was a huge window, from which one can view the waters of the lake, literally. It was enchanted just like the ceiling of the Great Hall; however, instead of the sky overhead, it was the waters of the lake.

Their room, as well as the entire Slytherin house, was under the lake, as such, the windows were akin to a submarine's vantage and viewings of fish, the Giant Squid and water snakes. On full moons one could on occasion see a mermaid and other rare magical water inhabitants.

The natural light from the lake made the walls move with the watery refraction of the light, and it was nothing short of soothing. Thankfully the walls never leaked because of the magical spells, but it was like being in an inside out aquarium from time to time, but Draco rather liked this.

He was just about to get up and look around in his desk for a book he was doing some research in when something fell out of his satchel. It was a note from Harry.

'_Malfoy, _

_I know what you are doing.'_

"Shit."

'_The Room of Requirement is a place I am very familiar with. But what else can it be used for I wonder? Meet me in front of the tapestry at midnight Saturday.'_

"Tonight?" 'Damn I am glad I found this thing.' Draco thought mentally, what if he hadn't? He would have left Harry out at night in the carefully watched halls of Hogwarts…now there was an idea. No, he wanted some physical release from the mental torment of his assignment.

---

Harry was outside the entrance to the Room of Requirement when something tapped him on the shoulder. But when he turned around, there was no one there.

"And I will still be wanting my cloak back, Malfoy."

"Impressive, but you're not getting it back, at least not tonight Potter. Now, open the damn door."

"What thought do you suggest I use to open the door? You and I both know it will impact the interior accordingly."

"I will be a nice little boy and leave that one up to your creativity," Draco said coolly.

Harry just huffed in a naive pout, then stood resolute with a new air of confidence. "Oh, it will hold some creativity." He began the ritualistic pacing with a low, barely audible whisper of request of the magical accommodations. Draco picked up on a small hint of malice in Harry's voice, but ignored it and chose to focus on making sure no one was coming up the hall.

After a minute, a door appeared. Somehow, Harry managed to grab Draco's arm even with the Invisibility Cloak on and led Draco in the same harsh manner as Draco had led Harry into the bathroom a night before.

"Ouch, Harry! Damn It."

"Maybe you like it, Draco. Have you ever _considered_ it?" Harry spat in sarcastic imitation of Draco's late suggestion.

"Harry, I…woah." Draco was silenced by what Harry had conjured within the room.

The room was nothing short of…medieval.

It was smaller then when Harry and Draco used it respectively, and there were no cushions, at all. Chains were the dominant feature of the walls' décor, and there was something akin to a nail bed on a slope right behind Draco. "Harry, what the hell is this?"

But before Draco could get his answer, he was deprived of the cloak and punched backwards right onto the nails. Draco let out a silent scream as the sharp points pierced his skin. Draco suddenly realized that he was not safe here with Harry tonight; he was in severe danger as it were.

"Harry what are you doing? Stop it!" but Harry wielded his wand swiftly around Draco so that the biggest set of chains wrapped around Draco's stomach. Then, Harry hooked the chain around behind them so that they could not be reached. He used another fast flick of his wand and cuffed Draco's hands so that Draco was spread-eagle on the nails, terrified. "What the hell is going on? Harry? What are you doing?"

Harry stood there glaring at Draco for a moment before his face spread into a huge, maniacal grin.

Harry had spend so much time lately thinking of what Draco was up to in the Room of Requirement all those times he was not on the Marauders Map.

However he wanted more to go on than a hunch before he confronted Draco about it.

The fact that Draco knew the tapestry and the means to use the room confirmed his involvement in the room.

Harry would have let his curiosity rest with this knowledge, but the attack on the girl was just too bold a move. Harry did not mention his suspicions to Ron or Hermione, but he and his adrenaline fully intended to act.

In Harry's mind, perhaps a warning would hinder Draco's deviancy, perhaps a scare would set back his plans (whatever they were,) and perhaps Harry was getting too attached to Draco.

All these thoughts crossed Harry's mind before conjuring the Room of Requirement, but he was never the less impressed with the spaces' delivery.

"I know you were behind it today, Draco. It was your necklace that cursed the girl."

Draco managed to gather some courage to retaliate the accusations, "Prove it, Potter."

"I don't need to. But I know you are spending a lot of time in this room lately, and I _will_ find out why." Harry was looking…dark. Draco was fighting the urge to curse him.

"If I knew how to do silent curses, Potter, you would be in pain."

"Why not just kill me, Malfoy?"

"Because that's not _my_ job here."

"What?"

"You heard me, Potter. You are not to be killed by anyone but _him_."

Harry was momentarily silenced. Not only had Draco confirmed that he had joined the circle of Death eaters, but that he knew about the future plans of Voldemort himself.

"Draco, what are you supposed to do exactly then?" Harry said slowly.

"Why the fuck would I tell you, Harry. Plus, what exactly do you plan on doing, chaining me up like this? It's not going to accomplish anything significant."

"The hell it isn't." Draco had insulted Harry's idea of trying to scare someone into not being bad. Harry knew he would be damned scared if he were in Draco's place right now. Did that mean that Draco was tougher than Harry? 'He is not getting the point yet.'

Harry leaned onto Draco's torso, forcing Draco's skin deeper on the nails.

Draco let out a scream that he didn't mean to.

"The way I see it, Draco, is that I will get my cloak back, and my book."

"The book is not with me, Potter. So how are you going to get it?" Draco was unintentionally tearing up with the pain. He could feel the blood running through his shirt and could visualize his blood slowly dripping down the nails tips' onto the metal bearing them. He was letting out small gasp of pain with every breath, but this was nothing compared to his pain experienced under the Dark Lord' company. Nothing.

"You are going to get it for me, and I will not put you under the Cruciatus Curse as long as you do."

"Harry, you would not curse me after what we have done," Draco was in horrible pain at this point, but still nothing against the Dark Lord's capabilities…yet. " Not after what you experienced with me. I took you to levels of pleasure your body has never felt."

"And you enjoyed every moment of it. But this has nothing to do with sex, Draco."  
"We have not had sex, Harry. You are such a little virgin, it's pathetic."

"Not too pathetic for your attention or desire, Draco."

"Me, desire you? Please." Draco was in extreme pain, but he was still a genuine brat who hated to loose when all was said and done.

"Oh Draco, you want me, I can see it even now." Harry had a tone of desperation. He wanted Draco to realize that he, Harry, was doing this to embed in his brain that he would get into serious trouble if he did anything else. But more so, Harry realized that he desired Draco to desire him, and the only way that the message of protection would get through was if the feeling was mutual. Harry wanted to protect Draco from the Death Eaters, and Voldemort himself. However Harry was still an emotional teen, and the only way he could think of telling Draco this was to tell him that anyone else hurting him would be wrong. It was twisted, but so was yelling his head off at Ron and Hermione when he got to Sirius' house that summer. It was this damned raw anger that made him act out like this.

But in addition to being angry, he was also extremely confused as to his own motives and wants.

However, Draco could see a little bit of sense, and interpret a little bit of understanding into Harry's actions, and Harry's words hit deep. Too deep.

It was true. Draco wanted Harry in so many ways. He wanted his body, sure enough, but he wanted Harry to save him from this defunct image of a life. He wanted to be saved by this person who was currently hurting him, in more ways than one.

Harry's suggestion that he was only interested in Draco for his stolen book and his eagerness to hurt him rather than offer him salvation meant that Harry is one more person in the world that has refused to care for, like and love him.

After a very lengthy pause, Draco, not meeting Harry's eyes, spoke very silently.

"I do."

"What?" Harry's temper had subsided; he was never good at maintaining a level of emotion without persistent, continuous provocation, and Draco seemed to know his stopwatch when it came to controlling his emotions at times like these.

"Why is this Hero hurting me?" Draco yelled at the floor. He was past the point of caring about his image as 'The Draco Malfoy.'  
"Hero?" Harry said in question, but Draco just continued.

"I want you to save me, need you to save me. I am so lost, Harry."

"What? Draco, your right here." Harry was slightly abashed at this change, but it meant that Draco might have realized that Harry was trying to relay a message to him and just didn't know how.

He wanted Draco to know he cared about him enough to hurt him, unlike the Death Eaters who hurt him because they didn't give a damn.

It occurred to Harry that he was still leaning on Draco, and that Draco's blood was now covering the table and slowly dripping on the floor. Still, Harry hesitated. Could Draco be tricking him?

No.

"Draco, I…" Harry summoned the table away, but the chains remained, as did the cuffs. "Draco," Harry murmured tenderly. Draco looked awful. His shirt was covered in blood and in shreds now that the nails are not holding the cloth together. He was shaking softly.

"Harry," Draco was down right out of it. He was totally out of control of himself at the moment. He never imagined that he would be in a situation like this inside of Hogwarts, with Harry Potter nonetheless.

"My only pain right now springs from the idea that no matter what you do to me, I am still _his_ servant. Branded. I don't belong to myself anymore, and I know they think I will die during this damned mission, and I probably will."

"Draco, what mission?"

"Save me, Harry Potter." with that, Draco passed out from the blood loss. He went limp, still cuffed and wrapped in the chain's coil.

Harry was horrified with himself. He hurt Draco too much. He went too far, and now someone else was hurt because of him, directly because of him. He was disgusted with himself. His anger, which was so prominent these days, had claimed his judgment and actions.

Harry stopped the bleeding on Draco's back; he had the charm placed on himself so many times after Quiddich that he was able to perform the incantation without a problem. "Finite Incantatum!" He yelled at the room, only during this incantation he had placed a very solid image of another king of room in his mind.

The Room of Requirement did not let him down. It changed immediately into a soft living space with a huge futon in front of a warm fire. Next to the futon was a small table with a set of clean clothes. Harry sighed in relief.

After a change of clothes Harry moved Draco onto the futon, then he covered the blond in the giant blanket after checking that he was recovering from the blood loss. Harry had not noticed just how pale Draco until he was cleaning the blood off his back. Draco's skin when covered in Draco's blood was a ghastly contrast that Harry never wants to see again.

Slowly Harry got to his feet and walked around Draco to see his face, he crouched low and placed a hand on Draco's wrist, then pulled his arm out to see the Dark Mark. He was curious as to what the curse looked like up close.

It was horrible and angry looking. It moved slightly, but Harry instinctually knew that something more would happen if he touched it.

Harry looked at Draco's now peaceful face, then back down to the mark. He then moved his head forward, hesitated, and then kissed the Dark Mark.

Immediately, Harry's scar begins to burn.

Kissing the Dark Mark had caused the Dark Lord pain somehow…Harry didn't care how. But he did it again, ignoring the white pain from his scar.

"Draco," Harry looked down at the boy, and surprisingly Draco was staring back at him. "Your awake!"

Draco looked from Harry to the Mark, and quickly recoiled his arm. "What do you think you are doing?" Draco was horrified.

"Talking to Voldemort," Harry slowly stood up again, and walked slowly towards the door.

"Harry, he…"

"I know, Draco. But he has hurt you, and so I hurt him. But I also hurt you, so I am no better than he is." Harry picked up his cloak and threw it over his shoulder.

"Harry, please."

"What? You wanted me to help you, so tell me how I can and I will as much as you let me. I know you bottle yourself up more than is healthy, and I know that like Voldemort you don't have close friend and allies. But take it from someone that is Voldemort's number one target: he can be defeated." Harry let a small smile grace his features. His resolve was so strong, even when he did not intent it to be so visible.

"Harry, you fool." Draco was still very weak from the blood loss, but he was going to be heard. "He will hurt me instead of you until he kills you, same goes for Severus. Until you kill him or he kills you, we will suffer, and even after that apocalyptic event, if he wins we are screwed." Draco opened his mouth but Harry interrupted him.

"Draco, I will kill him, haven't you listened to me at all? I will kill him even if I have to sacrifice myself to do so, which happens to be the most likely outcome. Once that happens, you will be free, so what you do to prepare yourself for that freedom is up to you. But just remember that in time, I will give you freedom."

What that Harry left the room with his cloak. The door shut lightly behind him.

"If you die I will not be happy. Even if he dies with you, Harry."

Then Draco drifted off to sleep…

It


	6. Chapter 6

**Cyrusys 6**

Harry did not sleep that night. He had left Draco alone in the Room of Requirement after torturing him for no other reason than he could not control his own anger and rage. Harry was depressed, in a state of self-hatred, and no closer to retrieving the Horcruxes than he was a month ago.

"Shit." He sighed into the bed hangings. The wood of the bed seemed to age with him at times. When he was tired, it looked greyer. When he was angry it looked redder. Then Harry considered that his moods changed his surroundings, even if they did not really change.

---

For days, maybe weeks Draco refused to speak to Harry. Occasionally a look of the utmost distaste would slowly wedge between his eyes, but that was all.

During classes, if they were forced to interact, Draco would talk to the floor, the walls, or the ingredients on the table.

It was completely understandable for Draco to act this way. Because hurting someone, no matter what the real truth behind the action, was painful.

Harry hurt Draco, and had nothing to show for it.

---

Draco returned to his room, slammed the door for the 82nd time in a row, threw himself into his four-poster, sealed it with a silencing charm, and then had a fit of rage and a hard cry. He wanted to run to his favorite bathroom, but knew that it was too risky. He did NOT want to see Potter. He was utterly miserable. First, he needed to cry somewhere or else he would loose it somewhere in public, and then he ended up crying in his room like some 2-year old. He felt pathetic, and it was all Harry's doing. At least Myrtle would just let him cry for hours and woo over him until he finally calmed down.

'Pathetic.' Draco thought to himself, to be comforted by a ghost who was essentially killed by his master years ago in a roundabout series of events.

---

Harry was completely hopeless for weeks. He did not DARE to go to the bathroom where he and Draco met before. He didn't even leave the common room most nights. As a result his homework was much improved, but his mood, attitude and mental state were in shambles. Harry also had the nagging task of getting the correct memory from Slughorn about Riddle, in which he was also failing.

After another week he gave up his inhibitions, grabbed his cloak, which he finally reacquired ('why not use it?') and left the common room.

---

Draco was having a bout of bad luck in his attempt to find a way to get fellow Death Eaters into the castle by the end of term. He was leaving the Room of Requirement, (still never looking at it in the same light again after his encounter with Potter,) and started back to the stairs when he felt a light pressure on his shoulder.

"Wait. Please wait a moment." He heard Harry plea slowly and silently.

"No. Let go of me." Draco said coldly.

"I am begging you. Please." Harry said with a twinge of desperation in his voice.

"Why should I? Given me time to heal up so you can make me bleed more than I have, Potter?" Draco spat rather viciously for someone not being able to see whom he was talking to.

There was a very pregnant pause where Draco very successfully maintained a deathly stare with nothing to focus on.

"Will you come with me somewhere?" Harry said after a lengthy pause.

"Do you think that I am mad?"

"How can I convince you?"

"You can't. Now leave."

"No."

"You are so naive Harry. Do you not see how inconceivable your request really are?"

"I do. I want to go to the Shrieking Shack. Will you come with me?"

Draco had a nice little memory of third year when he saw Harry's head from above the cloak outside the Shrieking Shack. It caused his mood to lighten.

"If I get to use the cloak."

---

Draco had a vague memory that there was a path to the shack from school grounds, but he did not suspect the Womping Willow to be part of the equation. The school never failed to provide a new twist when he least expected it. Then again, neither did the boy in his company.

He never expected Harry to yield him the cloak and risk his neck being visible when Draco wasn't, but there it was.

They were silent on the walk down the dirty tunnel. It was long, and the suspense did not help Draco with the idea that he did not know exactly what Harry had planned in the Shrieking Shack at 1AM in the morning with him. Plus, Draco was in the dark on what _exactly_ lay in the shack, but he refused to show any hesitation towards a place where Harry of all people did not fear.

---

They climbed up through the door and then walked up a case of very precarious stairs before Harry entered a room and settled himself on an extremely dirty sofa.

Draco looked around the room that was an absolute wreck.

There looked to have been a struggle in the room some time ago and there was something that looked to be very old and dry blood along the floor, his eyes lingered on the spot for a while after he had taken the cloak off.

"That's Snape's blood."

"What?!"

"Long story in third year involving him, Lupin, an animagus named Peter Pettigrew, and Sirius Black."

Draco took a moment, and decided that he did not want to know the story at the moment. "I will take your word for it."

They looked at each other for a long time.

It seemed that there was a silent exchange of apologies, insults, accusations and finally consolation.

Draco walked over and sat gracefully next to Harry on the sofa, not thinking about the dirt he just embedded onto his clothing.

Harry slowly scooted himself over to Draco and leaned his back against Draco's chest as Draco moved his body square towards Harry.

They sat like that for a long moment. It was comforting. Like finally being alone with a good book and a cup of tea in the winter.

Like stealing time that has too been long rain-checked.

Draco and Harry had both forgotten how their bodies were so similar, and as such how well they formed together as one.

"Dumbledore said something funny a while ago," Harry let out. Draco considered it an absurd tangent from appropriate conversation in this situation, but let Harry speak regardless. "He said that it was my ability to love that saved me from Voldemort."

"Okay." Draco did not know what to say to that.

"I have a question then."

"What's your question?"

"Can my love save you from Voldemort?"

Draco was dumbstruck.

Harry noticed Draco's body freeze.

"If it can, Draco, then now Voldemort can not harm you."

"What are you saying, Harry?"

There was another heavy pause, but in a very light-hearted tone Harry answered:

"I love you."

Draco recoiled instinctually from Harry. "YOU WHAT?" He shouted as he ran out of space to retreat and ended up on the dusty floor rather haphazardly.

Harry laughed softly. Draco stared at him in disbelief.

"Are you MAD, Potter? You can NOT love me!" Draco stammered with his grammar for a while before just saying it how it was: "Harry Potter can't love Draco Malfoy! Can you not imagine how fucked up that would be? Can you not see the headlines and…SHIT!" Draco Malfoy had lost all elegance in that moment.

"You Blond."

"What?"

"I love you like my Mother loved me. I am not being a homo here, I am just stating the facts."

"You love me and you say that you're not gay? You have lost your mind, Harry!"

"Nope. I love you like I love my friends. I love you like I love those who mean the most to me. So I am sorry, Draco, but yes, I love you." Harry moved himself to kneel over Draco who was still on the floor unmoved from his fall off the sofa. He slowly leaned close to Draco's face.

"However, Draco, I also really like you." Harry said with a rather wicked grin as he wrapped one hand behind Draco's head and pulled him into a kiss.

It took Draco a moment before he realized what was going on.

But somehow he knew what Harry meant; you could love someone and not like him or her, but you could love someone and like him or her at the same time. Harry felt the latter towards him. He liked and loved Draco.

Draco gave up.

Draco pulled Harry on top of him, inadvertently pinning himself to the floor, but no one was complaining.


	7. Chapter 7

**Cyrusys 7**

Another Saturday morning dawned with Draco admiring his handy work on the canopy of his bed…it had been removed. After being so engrossed in his own mental thicket with its vines of negativity, trees of looming darkness and shadows filled with danger, he decided that stimulating his physical senses would aid, and if nothing else, improve his surroundings.

So he started with the place he started his days: in his bed. Cutting the canopy open allowed him to fully view the window above and see the lake's water overhead along with its creatures floating and swimming so carelessly.

Yet he did not envy their carefree lives. He had become content with being an observer of these water-creatures. Rather, he had taken a liking to comparing the positive things in his life with those of the beings in the lake. He was graceful, enjoyed the free feeling of swimming, and was at peace in the ambiance of the underwater light.

He was however interrupted in his smooth awakening into consciousness with an unnaturally vigorous knocking on his dorm's door.

"Come in" He said with a very cowboy-like smooth draw.

"Draco. Your father is here." Goyle said with a heightened tone of fear, awe and questionable curiosity.

'Shit.' Draco rose and composed himself with the speed and agility of a cat jumping off a refrigerator after his master came into the kitchen yelling. His father being here…in person…meant all sorts of wrong. "Tell him I will be out there quickly."

"But that takes time, Draco, my son." Came a steely tone from the doorway.

Draco had been facing his closet, getting ready to change out of his Pajama's when he registered the voice. As such he had the feeling of an ice-cube rolling down his neck when realizing his father with right behind him. "Why wait when I can control the time line of events?"

"Father, please, you will be much more comfortable in the common room." Draco could tell his voice was pleading and weak. He never had the upper hand when dealing with his father, but being in his Pajama's left him feeling even more the inferior.

"Draco, you know I hate repeating myself: when one can control the time line, then to not do so is not acceptable." His father's form was just as tall, stone-like and broad-shouldered as Draco remembered; however seeing him fill the doorway of his room was just…intrusive. Draco was trapped and felt completely vulnerable. "Now, my Son, sit down."

Draco's eyes never left his fathers as he moved away from the closet with as much portrayed confidence as possible. He sat on his desk, not the bed to avoid feeling even more like a small child being pressed into submission. But before Draco could say anything to take back some control of the situation his father took control of the field.

Lucius Malfoy started very slowly, in very deep tones, with deadly and aggressive assertiveness. "Your plans are behind schedule. Your methods have been crude and clumsy. I can't help wondering if you are really committed to this assignment, to your family or to the Dark Lord. I remind you that as my son you are to carry on our family's honor now and as long as you live. Our Lord is not pleased with you. Our Lord does not think our family very capable, committed or loyal because of you. Your failure is our failure. Your failure is my failure and _I will not be a failure because of you_. Do you understand this, Draco?"

The words were short; the statements brutally efficient, their meanings carried fearsome consequences. His father had spoke barely louder than a whisper but it might as well been a magnified shout.

Draco was lost in anxiety, intimidation and raw fear. Apparently this delay in response carried its own separate consequence from his overall punishment. Lucius walked across the room to his son and paused momentarily. Anything could have happened next, but Lucius was in complete control, thus only his will existed in the room.

He lifted his cane smoothly in his hands and looked over the wooden handle, and then quick as lightening he swung the cane at Draco where it collided solidly against Draco's head with a sickening crack.

Draco fell to the floor on his hands and knees. Only at this time did he realize the door to the room was still open and his housemates were looking fearfully into his room at him bleeding on the floor from a gash on his left temple. But he would not let out a sound no matter what cruelties were inflicted upon him. It was the only means of control he had in such encounters as this.

Lucius picked Draco up by the skin on his shoulder only to jab his cane deeply into his ribs and again across his face before kicking him in the knees and slamming Draco onto the stone of the floor.

"If you control the timeline, than it is wrong to not take responsibility for the chain of events at hand. Draco, I will not be the one who reminds you about the repercussions of failure next time. Count yourself lucky that it is me standing here and not someone less forgiving and concerned about you."

Lucius gracefully stood up from crouching over Draco and straightened his robes. He looked around the room a few times then back down to his son who was unmoved on the floor. "It is the goal at hand that is more important than anything else, even our lives. Do not forget that, and do not fail." With not so much as a look back Lucius turned and exited the dorm. The wind from his cloak was like a tornado in Draco's face.

Draco slowly did a physical inventory to find two deep wounds cress-crossing the left side of his face and possibly a cracked rib and kneecap. It was amazing how little his father had to do to cause so much pain and injury. _'Death Eater through and through.'_

He slammed the door in the questioning faces of his housemates and rounded on his dresser. After nearly ripping the essentials out of the drawer he darted out of his room, through the common room and out the enchanted wall. He walked straight up to the hospital wing without catching anyone's eye.

"Of for Merlin's sake! What happened to you Mr. Malfoy?" Madam Pomphery asked ushering him into a chair.

"Really need to watch my step on the spiral stair case…hit a railing on the way down by accident." He followed quickly when she gazed superciliously at the abrasions on his face.

Draco walked into the Great Hall for dinner that night and for the first time ever felt like he was being examined and scrutinized. He could not pull off his normal air of supremacy if it tried.

It wasn't until he caught Harry's eye that he felt _ashamed_ of himself.

Whatever Harry was thinking Draco knew he wouldn't just trace across the Great Hall to the Slytherin table to ask how his 'mortal enemy' was doing.

Well, at least that's that Draco thought.

Harry stood up roughly and bumped the table hard with his knees causing him to recoil into his seat. Draco had to suppress a laugh at this. Harry however just glared at the offending furniture and turned around in his seat to stand in the aisle with no obstacles.

After outright stomping down the Gryffindor aisle, past the Ravenclaw Table and down the back wall of the Slytherin table where Draco was sitting Harry had amassed numerous questionable stares from all houses. But he was firmly focused on Draco.

"Potter? May I ask what you are doing at our table?" Draco said with a feigned coyness.

"I need to talk to you…NOW" Harry stated, grabbing Draco by the collar and hauling him to his feel.

"What the HELL is wrong with you, Harry!" Draco froze in his tracks when he realized what he had said. It was the reason his housemates were staring at him. Using 'Harry' instead of 'Potter' was a world of difference…and everyone knew it. By using 'Harry' and not 'Potter' Draco had given more then leeway or insight into their relationship, he had opened the floodgates.

The sudden onslaught of girls cooing, 'aaawwww' -ing and just giggling of all girls within earshot of his slip-of-tong defended Draco.

"Shit." Draco couldn't think of anything that would make this worse, so he grabbed Harry's sleeve and towed him into the corridor.

Once securely hidden behind a column and a statue Draco had only the echoes of the giggling to remind him of their recent transaction.

"Okay, Potter, What?" Draco said in a huff not looking Harry in the eyes.

"Don't 'What' me! You look mauled! What the hell happened to you?" Harry said in anger and concern.

"What? Mad you didn't get to do the honors yourself? Wanted to rough me up a bit more!" Draco shouted in Harry's face.

"I said I was sorry. I don't want to hurt you. I just want to know who did so I can have a go at them myself."

"You have a go at my Father? Good luck!"

"Your FATHER did this to you?"

"Yes, aren't you glad you don't have one now?"

"Draco, that's low." Harry said recoiling his tones and lowering his gaze.

"Sorry. Look, it's been a long day and I just want to forget it." Draco said as he started to walk towards the Slytherin dorms.

"What? Are you kidding me? Why did your Father beat the shit out of you?"

"Its not your business!"

"YOU are my business!"

After Harry shouted his declaration there was a long silence. Draco turned towards Harry and pulled him into a hug. While in the embrace he whispered into Harry's ear longingly. "And you are mine. But this is about the families pride and this is how it always is. Please just drop it so I can have some peace."

Draco pulled away slowly and searched Harry's eyes for an answer.

"I just don't know what's best for you. I want to help you, but you never let me in. Do you even know what's best for you, and what YOU really want?" Harry said in a low whisper.

They started at each other for a long time in silence before hearing the thundering of students approaching from the Great Hall. After looking one last time into Harry's eyes Draco just grabbed his hands twice in reassurance and then disappeared into the growing crowd.

'Damn it' Harry cursed. Another night of un-resolved issues.


End file.
